“Just thinking that might be what is the problem. The charity of it, especially if one is reminded too often of that very kindness. And I am thinking Mrs. Beaton is a woman who will mention it as often as she can.”
Matthew chuckled. “True enough. Weel, as said, Abigail has no choice and I am sorry if it ends up grating on her heart but she cannae stay where she was.”
“Nope. That lack of choice is always hard to swallow, too.”
Nodding, Matthew hoped it would not be too hard on Abigail. He had a strong need to make sure she was somewhere safe, so there was no choice for him. He just promised himself he would keep a watch on her.
The rest of the way back to the little town they were headquartered in was peaceful. It was growing dark and the evening shadows grew. Pulling up in front of the house, Matthew got down from the wagon and went to the back only to find that the stop in motion was enough to rouse Abigail. Boyd slept on and she immediately checked his forehead for signs of fever.
“Ye can stay here,” Matthew said as he helped her down. “It will be safe for you.”
“Where?” Abigail looked around at the houses on both sides of the street.
“That house,” he said, and pointed to a large white house on her right. “Do ye nay recall? We told ye there are other women there and a few children as weel. All of them have lost their homes and families. We call it the Woman’s House.”
Abigail stared at the big three-story house and idly wondered why such a huge fancy building had even been built here. “How sad. I suppose we will at least have something in common.”
He nodded and walked her to the door as the men brought her chests. He knocked and Mrs. Beaton herself answered. At the door, he introduced her to Mrs. Beaton who directed the men to put the chests in the upstairs hall and then he left her there. He needed to get Boyd to the place where the infirmary had been set up so he shook aside his inexplicable guilt and hopped back up into the wagon seat.
When they carried Boyd into the infirmary the doctor quickly showed them to a bed. The man looked over Boyd’s wound then tied the restraint for his wounded arm back on. He straightened up and frowned.
“Who tended to this wound?”
“A woman we just brought in,” answered Matthew. “Her da was once a doctor and she appeared to ken what she was about.”
“Oh yes, she knew. That is what surprised me. I expected to find a still untended wound under the bandages. She did much the same as I would have done. Where is she?”
“At the Woman’s House. Mrs. Beaton’s?” The doctor nodded. “It was at her place where Boyd got wounded. Since she was alone when the fight ended we brought her here.”
“Good. I have to think on it but I might go speak with her. Help is always needed here but I rarely find anyone with any skill. That a woman may well be the one I need is a bit shocking. The boy is fine for now but I cannot say what the fate of that arm will be. May heal and still be useless.”
“That is what Abigail said.” Matthew shook his head. “I can only hope ye are both wrong.”
The doctor just smiled faintly when Matthew shook his head and left. It was not a look that gave Matthew any hope. It really looked as if Boyd’s soldiering days were over. Some might be delighted by that, but he knew Boyd would be deeply disappointed. The boy had seen little of the war so far and still held his dreams of glory in battle.
Then he and the men took the wagon to the stables. They all stood patiently as the man running the place laughed heartily over the wagon. Matthew decided it should have been expected especially after all the looks they had gotten as they had entered the town. Leaving it in the still chuckling man’s care, he joined his men as they all made their way back to the tedium interrupted with moments of terror that had become their lives.
Chapter Three
Abigail slowly walked to a chair and sat down. She looked around at the other women in the room, finding that most of them were watching her. Mrs. Beaton had not bothered introducing her; she just told her to go sit down and walked away. Unsure of what to do next, she nodded at any woman who met her eyes for a moment. Finally, one woman stood up and walked over to her. She looked to be about Abigail’s age and had lovely blond hair hanging loose and curly around her shoulders. There was a cautious look in her brown eyes as she took the seat nearest to Abigail’s.
“Hello. I am Julia Hawkins,” the woman said.
“Abigail Jenson.” She stuck out her hand and the other woman looked a little startled but shook it.
“Are you staying with us now?”
“I assume so. This is where Lieutenant MacEnroy brought me.”
“How did that happen?”
As quickly as she could, Abigail explained. She could not completely stem her tears when she spoke of the fate of her parents, but quickly wiped away the few that escaped. She was going to have to find the time and the privacy to give way to her grief. When she finished her tale, the other woman looked close to weeping herself.
“There is so much of that. All the women here are widows or daughters left behind. More widows than the others. There are a few children here as well. We were in another place in town for a while but it became too small to hold us so they moved us here. This used to be the headquarters of the major but, despite what I assume was annoyance”—Julia briefly grinned—“he moved. Mrs. Beaton was at first pleased to get her house back.”
“How do I, well, settle in?”
“Mrs. Beaton did not say?”
“No, she just told me to come in here and sit down. The men took my chests up the stairs.”
“Ah, well, you can share my room as the woman who used to has moved on. She got news that her husband was not dead as reported, just badly wounded, and she has gone to him.” She leaned closer to Abigail and spoke softly. “He lost a leg and demanded that he be listed as dead. It was a friend of his who finally came looking for his wife. He thought it was foolish of his friend to try and turn away the one who might well be the best help for him, so she left with the man. She sent back a short letter when she found her husband and said they were headed back to Ohio.”
“I hope all goes well for her and her husband.”
“As do I, but it has left a bed free in my room.”
“Thank you. Matthew told me little when he left me here. He just mumbled something about this being the Woman’s House and walked away.” Abigail decided Julia had a nice laugh, clear and sweet, almost childlike.
“Come, I will introduce you to everyone and show you where you will sleep.”
Abigail followed her as Julia led her over to each woman in the room and politely introduced her. Most of the women were friendly, but one could almost feel their sadness. It was the same with the children that they met once they made their way up the stairs. There was a fear clinging to each one.